“it always seems a bit abstract doesn’t it? Other people dying.”
-Peter Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister, Game of Thrones
For the Days that are Today
I want,
after waking to the news
that is always the news
& changing the Facebook
autoplay settings as to not
see the blood out
of where it is meant to be in
of the black / brown him / her / they,
to peer out my blinds
& see my left neighbor bundling
their shrub switches
into torch, my right neighbor’s face
sobbing raw, my whole complex
making weapons of their outrage.
I want every person in the street.
I want every person in the street.
I want every person in this street.
I want their hands, not adorned
but useful in brass knuckles. Hands wielding
bats. Bike chains repurposed.
Hatchets. Hammers. Scythes & machetes.
I don’t want guns in the street. This war
is personal (I prefer to feel
a tooth unhook
from gums). I want to see the white Alabama man
walking w/ me & we both
on the way together
for the black __________________ murdered
again. I want every street
domestically in feet
en route to what would be
a star on the map of America.
Which could be DC / Baton Rouge /
NY / Minneapolis. I want
hands in lovers
hands walking. I want
children napping
in the arms
of their walking fathers.
The battle
is
this urgent. I want the blocks
thick w/ movement
cause this
death
will not
be held.
Nabila Lovelace is a born & raised Queens native, as well as a first generation American. Her parents hail from Trinidad & Tobago & Nigeria. Sons of Achilles, her debut book of poems is forthcoming from YesYes Books. She is a MFA candidate at the University of Alabama — Tuscaloosa & believes the ampersand is the blackest conjunctive symbol.